


Alone

by VenetaPsi



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Friendship/Love, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Moving across the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenetaPsi/pseuds/VenetaPsi
Summary: "This trip had been imagined, fantasized, thought over meticulously by the anxious brunette to the very last detail. The soon-to-be "American" didn't know what to expect, head filled with empty daydreams and sickening guilt."Brian's going to America.





	Alone

This trip had been imagined, fantasized, thought over meticulously by the anxious brunette to the very last detail. The soon-to-be "American" didn't know what to expect, head filled with empty daydreams and sickening guilt. 

_"I just-"_

_"There's no 'just' about it! Stop, alright?"_

_"Godda- god, just fuck you! You don't understand-"_

_Clenched fists, blazing eyes._

His phone was being anxiously passed from one hand to another, the power button click echoed in his ears as he checked the time again and again. 

Fuck.

The ringing announcements of the airport echoed in Brian's ears as he hunched over in the cheap airport seat, head between his knees. He has to keep reminding himself to breath. 

_"Stay safe."_

_"Yeah. I will."_

_Gentle fingers on his shoulder_

His whole future was changing, leaving a bittersweet taste in his throat, and painful pounding in his chest. He couldn't do this. 

_"It's just a flurry, it's not that bad!"_

_"I almost died!"_

_"You choked on liquidized ice cream dumbass."_

_Laughter, loud and clear._

The woman next to him rose to her feet, dragging her suitcase up with a painfully loud crash. The clicking of little wheels on tile followed. Brian let out a shaky breath. In and out. 

_"Hey."_

_"Hey…thanks for coming."_

_"Anytime. Always, you know that."_

_"Yeah."_

_A wry smile._

He made it onto the plane with barely a moment to spare. Risky. Daring. People glared as he rushed down the aisle. He felt sick to his stomach. 

_"This is goodbye then."_

_"Not forever."_

_"I know."_

_He cried._

-_-_-_-

America was everything Brian had ever dreamed of, and everything he'd ever dreaded in exactly the same breath. He couldn't describe it, couldn't explain his love and hatred, his pain and his relief and all of that was wrapped around the States like a pretty little bow. 

He was closer to his friend group, visited their houses, talked to them face to face more often than every other year. He had good internet and a house he liked and wasn't living nocturnal and pale as a ghost from lack of sun. 

_how is it?_  
**It's..**  
**American**  
that sounds like a bad thing  
**Not exactly**  
send me a postcard  
**Sure hahaha**  
make it a really cheesy one  
lots of flags  
**You got it**

There's a hole that won't fill however, a gaping chasm that Brian doesn't even notice until it's pointed out to him. Then he can't unnotice it, can't avoid it until the confusion and frustration is eating him alive because he just. Can't. Fill it. 

_if you send me rootbeer I'll send you Irish stuff_  
**The good kind or the shitty kind**  
both. shitty stuff is good for floats.  
**You're so weird haha**  
you know it <3 

He's recording and editing and uploading and visiting people and it falls into a pattern, like everything does with Brian. His mind is used to old routines, and he's having withdrawals from actual good McDonalds and overcast Irish skies. 

The brunette squints out the window at the bright sky and brighter sun and the illuminated boxes scattered around his room. He needs to finish unpacking.

__**God I miss my dog**  
aw, I'm sorry man  
I always miss Joe and Tony when I visit  
**The house is just too quiet, you know?**  
I know  
Call?  
**Yeah**  
-'Nogla' started a voice call- 

He visits Wildcat for the 4th of July weekend, joining the rest of the Americans on their annual trip for the first time. It great, fireworks and bonfires like they normally do, and sparkler fights that leave more than a few burns. Brian has fun, starving off this feeling that something's missing. He can almost ignore it if he tries hard enough. 

_Joe barfed all over the couch_  
**Yikes**  
**Is he okay?**  
yeah, he ate lint off the carpet  
**Carpet?**  
**Did you decorate?**  
um  
maybe?  
**You wait till now**  
**After I've offered to help so many times**  
yep  
pretty much haha  
**Pics or it didn't happen**

Brian's able to go to more conventions with the plane tickets halved or non-existent now that he's there, in America and not sailing over the ocean blue. 

He's less excited then he thought he'd be. Not soon after he loses his will to go entirely, much to his friends' dismay. 

__**You coming to Pax this year?**  
probably not.  
**No? Come on man, it'll be fun.**  
**We'll be able to meet up**  
sorry Brian. I kinda already made up my mind about this  
it's too late for me to get tickets anyways  
**You sure? We could figure something out..**  
yeah, I'm sure. don't trouble yourself, man 

There's a sudden drop off, a precipice that Brian didn't even realize existed until he'd tumbled off of it. He calls it homesickness, a sudden realization that where he was born and raised is thousands of miles away, across a fucking ocean. 

It takes its toll and Brian has to stop streaming for a while, to pull himself together before he trusts himself not to betray his turmoil live and unedited. 

_**I miss Ireland**  
we miss you too, Brian_

He manages one stream before he has to take another break. He gives no end date for this one, no promise to return to livestreaming except for his charity ones, which Brian refused to stop even if he was dying. 

He wasn't dying. 

__**There's nothing special here**  
maybe a school shooting or two  
**Fucking hell David**

He finds a sweatshirt in the final box unpacked. It's black and certainly not his, built for a body far slimmer and arms longer. It sits on the arm of his couch for weeks before Brian drunkenly grabs it one rough night of editing. 

The sleeves cover his fingers, the cloth smooth and worn. Loved. It smells vaguely of pine and citrus. 

Brian wakes up with his head pounding and his sleeve soaked with tears. His eyes burn. 

His chest feels shattered. 

_I'm gonna be in America for a week in January_  
**Really? That's awesome!**  
**I'm excited to see you**  
yeah, me too haha. It's been ages  
**Almost a year**  
that long?  
wow 

Christmas passes in a flurry of gift giving and addresses and stamps. New Year's drags by in its familiar tipsy haze. Only this year there's no cheesy movies, no late night drunken dancing, no quiet humming. 

Brian catches himself drifting into thought of the past too often. It can't be healthy. 

__**You got a place to stay?**  
yeah, found a hotel  
**Okay good**

Brian is a nervous wreck

__**Tell me when you land**  
**I can pick you up**  
here  
**On my way**  
**20 minute eta**  
gotcha 

-_-_-_-

Brian freezes up the first time he sees charcoal hair and pale skin and flannel in nearly eleven months. His joints lock up and his throat clenches as he stands behind the man, staring helplessly as his heart pounds in his chest. 

David turns around and laughs before pulling Brian into a tight hug. 

He's warm and solid, worming his way into Brian's mind and for the first time in months he feels complete, whole. He smells faint pine, hears the gentle puffs of breath that permeate the silence, sees hints of fur on David's sleeve. Brian lets that embrace pull him out of his mind and life. 

It's agony to pull away. 

For two days Brian is walking on air, stomach aching from butterflies and laughter, cheeks numbs from smiles he can't contain. He's nostalgic, reminded of rainstorms and green and cheap spirits and _home._ David is a beacon that Brian is drawn to, a firm body that he touches and hugs and can't bear to be without. 

Then Brian remembers this is temporary. 

That when the week runs out, David will vanish again, confined to voice and a screen. 

And he realizes he's forgotten things about David in his absence. Brian forgot how wide his smile was, how his laugh was clear and so full of joy that a microphone could never compete. He forgets the way David walks, stiff and relaxed at the same time, the way the tall man ducks slightly going through every doorway no matter how large. 

Brian is forgetting him, and that is more terrifying than stepping onto any plane. 

Because he needs David now. He realizes that when David is boarding and Brian can't let go of him, can't force his frozen fingers off of David's coat. 

David smiles gently, musicians' fingers untangling Brian's own, forest green eyes meeting Brian's. 

He has to go. Brian has to let him. 

He steps back, voice shaking as he says "goodbye, I'll see you soon". 

He wants him to stay, needs him to, because now Brian knows what America is lacking, why he's draining away. 

David has to run to catch his plane. 

Brian sits heavily on a cold airport seat, head between his knees, across an ocean from where he had before. Fingers tangle in his hair, tears stream down his face and onto the pale carpet below. 

"I love you," he whispers like a montra, desperate and pleading to air. 

_Please don't leave me here alone._


End file.
